


Once in a Lifetime

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coach gives advice, Gen, Hurt Liam, Poor Liam, retrospection, s06e14: face-to-faceless, season 6 episode 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: Coach Finstock has seen some pretty despicable behaviour at Beacon Hills, kids calling eachother names, the graffitiing of various buildings, the use of various illicit drugs and on one memorable occasion, a kid throwing a table out the window.But this, this took the cake, looking down at Dunbar's prone form he thought, rather calmly to himself, 'Is this how a genocide begins?'(Tacked on to season 6 episode 14: Face-To-Faceless)





	Once in a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, this is my first teen wolf fic, sorry if Bobby's too out of character but given all the shit he's seen i think it's reasonable to presume that he would have this kind of a reaction.
> 
> Enjoy

Bobby Finstock knows that some quite insane shit goes down within Beacon Hills.

He also knows that half of the time it’s more than the usual, one could call it, _unnatural._

He’s seen asthmatics become Olympic athletes overnight, he’s watched as wolves invade his team.

Children, adults, anybody going missing within Beacon Hills.

Sacrifices, one of the staff freakin’ teachers being one of the main suspects until it was actually proven that it was a _different_ teacher.

Children who were nobodies rise from the depths of their disparity and become the talk of the school but still outcasts.

_Allison Argent._

The name rings a bell because he remembers one of Scott’s games that he was _supposed_ to be at, he had skipped to go on a date with.

He knows that her death hit all of the kids hard, Isaac Lahey moved to Paris for God’s sake.

He remembers being shot by a _godamn_ arrow, but hey! He hadn’t felt a godamn thing.

But he hadn’t been dumb enough to _not_ see the _horror_ in Stillinski’s face and the veins of darkness reaching McCall and the two twins.

People put on hit-lists for reasons he _thinks_ he knows but they’re not as obvious as one would expect.

And he got caught up in the crossfire! How dare they use a poor man to get their conniving way to try and kill students at _his_ school!

An I.E.D student brought under the wing of Scott McCall and Stiles Stillinksi.

He’s known so many people that have died.

Too many.

He also knows that when he came out of rehabilitation some pretty godamn freaky stuff went on.

And then he forgot Stiles Stillinski for a while, that was weird, how could he forget the kid who managed to show Bambi up every time he _moved_?

But he’s back and he watched as the Lacrosse team move _away_ from their team captain, as if they hadn’t been menacingly moving towards him.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, watching in veiled disgust as they all move back, leaving Liam and another kid at the forefront of his vision. “Who called a meeting without me?”

“I did sir, my grades are slipping I need to step down.” Liam says, eyes looking like he wants to _scream._

But Bobby plays along for the sake of it and as Nolan is crowned the captain of the lacrosse team, he watches – secretly of course – as Liam’s eyes flash molten gold for a second, he frowns at the sight of a few flecks of blood slipping down his hands as he stalks out of the room in discontent.

Later on he’s sitting in front of his dinosaur of a computer that would put a certain president to shame, hands poised idly over the keys when he decides screw it and manages to get into the school’s registry.

It doesn’t surprise him as much as it should that Dunbar’s grades are perfectly perfect.

The only thing slipping is his ability to smell lies from freshmen.

“Alrightio then.” He mutters, this time searching up Nolan within the school’s directory.

To his _utter_ surprise, Nolan’s grades are beginning to slip, apparently he’s been sleeping in class and sometimes just skipping full stop.

The following day when he hears a crowd cheering something on, he feels his gut sink and storms into the classroom to the angry mob, “What the hell is going on here?” He roars, pulling the _strong,_ (godammit why did he have to be strong?) lacrosse player off of Liam Dunbar and send both him and Nolan packing to the principal’s office.

“What’s wrong with you all?” He shouts again, glaring at them as strongly as an economics/lacrosse coach can, “Get the hell out of here, I can’t stand to even look at your faces.”

The only two that stay are the two, probably, _only_ (no, McCall didn’t count seeing as he was out of high school and elsewhere) friends picked the boy up.

Limping along he hears one of the kids tell him, “You shoulda fought back.”

He knows Dunbar shook his head because the following words are, “I’ll heal.”

Stopping in the middle of the hallway he turns back to the two students, “Off with the pair of you, I can take Dunbar.”

The two exchange a glance and the slightly more cultured one looks like he’s going to say something but Dunbar almost unperceptively shakes his head.

“He’s all yours coach.” They lug their friend over to him and he almost immediately wishes he hadn’t asked them to leave.

The two are long gone by the time they start to move, he doesn’t feel the need to start conversation but Dunbar says it anyway, “I’m sorry coach.”

Gritting his teeth in anger that a kid who _just got_ isolated by the society of the school and quit what he loved doing because of something like _this,_ is saying sorry to him. “Don’t know what on earth you’re apologising for Dunbar, now shut up and put some back into it.”

Hearing the huff that could pass for a laugh or frustration, Bobby counts it as a win, “Are either of your parent’s home?”

“No, I was actually going to catch a lift with Mason and Corey…”

 _That’s_ what their names were.

He thinks that this is how the holocaust began, the segregation and cataloguing of a different _ethnic group._ Because all of the kids at Beacons Hills were fucked in some kind of way.

Where it be the supernatural way or by the way of being little _fuckers_.

He thinks that he’s seen it go on a hell of a lot more in the past years than he would care to meet.

They really need to teach history better if this is the product of their misguided teachings, children who try and beat up different children.

Reaching the nurse’s office he realised that she had long left so he deposited Dunbar on a seat in the clinic anyway and looked for some disinfectant, it made him uncomfortable, but he had to do _something._

“Now Dunbar, you tell me now, did you quit the lacrosse team because you were told to or because you wanted to?” He asked, shoving the cleaning supplies in Dunbar’s hands.

He closes his eyes briefly and says, “I needed to leave the lacrosse team.” He says, voice surprisingly steady for lying to his face.

“Hm, is that so, then why are your grades perfect?” He asks sarcastically.

“Maybe it’s a fault in the system.” He shoots back, wiping some of the blood off his face, now that Bobby looks at his face, there isn’t really any damage despite the amount of blood to say otherwise.

“Or maybe it’s a fault of the world.” Leaning forward he glares at him, “by giving up your role you told them to beat you up because you haven’t got the guts to fight.”

Dunbar’s eyes flash and he knows he struck a nerve, “It’s not that coach.”

“Oh? Enlighten a fool like me then.” He says daringly.

“If I did fight back… I could take them, and I mean, you know that, don’t you?” He says challengingly.

Bobby leans back, “I do, has something to do with the way your eyes flash and you grow claws and fangs, doesn’t it?”

Seeing the absolute _fear_ in Dunbar’s eyes is not something he expected. “You don’t know a damn thing coach.”

Snorting he replies derisively, “What don’t I know?”

“About this!” He gestures at the blood collecting in the alcohol swabs.

He shrugs, “No, but I do know that they’re not going to stop until they get what they want, so you can either give up, or maybe, just maybe, you can fight back.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll kill everyone.” Watching the pang of sadness resonate through the boy’s frame, Bobby sighs heavily.

“Y’know, when I first came to Beacon Hills high, I didn’t expect to be accosted by werewolves, or banshees, or demons, dark druids, none of it. But here we are.”

“Did you know Allison Argent?” Dunbar asks suddenly.

“Why do you want to know about her?”

“I hear Scott and Lydia talk about her sometimes…” He looks vaguely lost. “I know that she’s dead, but… can you tell me about her coach?”

Bobby sighs heavily, he is _not_ qualified to deal with mopey teenage werewolves, “Well, I didn’t know a whole lot about her, just that her and McCall had a thing. You should be asking your friends about her, not me.”

Nodding the kid stands, clearly mostly uninjured, “I should really get going.”

Clapping the kid on the shoulder, Bobby thinks that he did an _okay_ job. “Now, I’m not going to say anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Nah, if you wanted to say anything, you would’ve said it a long time ago.” Dunbar cheekily saluted him.

Sitting in the empty nurse’s office a little while longer he smirks, “Cheeky bastard.”

Bobby knows that things are going to get nastier and messier, he knows that two siblings were recently hit and a wild animal was seen very much near them.

Fear is a dangerous weapon to be using to harness people.

And if a true extermination is carried out of the ‘supernatural’ people, then they’ll have taken one freaking huge step back towards the day of Nazism.

Although, apparently that was prevalent in the Southern States again.

What the fuck though?

They _fought_ a war against the Nazi’s, why are there more?

“Well, they better not die.” He decides, nope, McCall and his _pack_ are not allowed to die, not for all they’ve _sacrificed_ for this godamn town.


End file.
